” Ennison dropped the evening paper which he had been pretending to read. The tears were streaming down her face, her voice was thick with sobs. Her evident terror and distress reinforced the tale he told. Funny how all but the most cunning and promiscuous teenage girls never caught on, not in 1400, certainly not now. She controlled herself, and answered meekly, “No. There were the burnt papers still in the grate.
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